Worlds of Darkness
by GirlX2
Summary: Sometimes things left in childhood refuse to remain behind. H/W
1. Chapter 1

Worlds of Darkness

By GirlX2

Chapter One

-

'Understand death? Sure. That was when the monsters got you.'

Stephen King, 'Salem's Lot

-

"You know what keeps me awake at night? Monsters in the closet."

House

-

Wilson was having a nightmare.

House groaned, rousing from what had been a very sound sleep. When Wilson had nightmares he thrashed about violently and cried out. Six months ago House would have ignored the hubbub. Of course back then they hadn't been sleeping together.

House reached over and roughly shook his lover. "Wilson. Wake up."

Wilson didn't have nightmares very often. Or if he did, he didn't wake House. It was never easy to bring him out of them--Wilson, while a morning person, had a rough time making the transition to fully being awake. On the plus side this gave House an excellent excuse to be affectionate, with the added bonus of Wilson not remembering it clearly later.

He moaned as House shook him. "No…I don't want to…"

"Wilson." House repeated loudly. "Wake up. You're dreaming."

"Please…" Now House noticed tears streaking down his face.

"Shit." This was a bad one. House wondered if either of them would get any more sleep tonight. "Wilson!"

The yell seemed to have done the trick. Wilson blinked slowly, his gaze unfocused.

The terrified shriek caught House completely off-guard. The oncologist cried out and made a move toward the door, not realizing he was still tangled in the sheets.

House winced as Wilson dropped onto the floor. He grabbed for the bedside lamp. The light flickered for a moment, casting shadows about the room and making Wilson whimper. He still wasn't fully awake.

"It's alright Jimmy." House mumbled as the light decided to stay on. "You were dreaming."

"I…" Wilson focused on the older man. "House?"

"Yeah." House crawled over to his side of the bed. "You okay?"

"I think so." Wilson blinked against the bright light.

"Then get back in bed. We have to get up in five hours."

"Okay." The younger man said quietly, detangling himself from the sheets.

House groaned inwardly. He knew that tone. Wilson wouldn't be sleeping again tonight.

Wilson snuggled close to House as he got back into the bed, laying his head on the diagnostician's chest. House, to tired to think up a cutting quip, stroked his hair silently. It seemed to help.

"Do you want to talk about it?" House didn't want to talk, but letting it go would do more harm than good. House had learned this after ignoring Wilson's nightmares before.

"I can't remember what it was about." Wilson murmured.

"You're lying."

"No, I-"

"Tell me."

"Something scary. How should I know? It was just a dream." Wilson curled against him.

House flicked the light off, eliciting another shudder from Wilson. Interesting.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, House could see Wilson wasn't even trying to sleep. His gaze was fixed firmly on the opposite wall. House glanced over and saw nothing except the slightly ajar closet door.

"You're afraid of closet monsters?!"

Wilson winced at the volume of the shot. "What are you talking about?"

"You're watching the closet like it's going to bite you."

"I am not." Wilson rolled over, now facing away from both lover and closet. "My focus happened to fall on the closet."

House looked back at the closet, wondering for a moment if the excuse was possibly true. He couldn't see anything to catch focus on, other than two slightly-glowing spots inside the closet. Probably buttons catching the lamplight from the street.

Except there were no streetlamps on this side of the apartment.

House rolled over, facing away from the closet. He shrugged off the spots even as he snuggled closer to Wilson. Monsters in the closet. No way.

The two dots winked out as the sun rose over the apartment. The time had run out on that particular night. It would come back again until it didn't wake anyone. This time it had come closest. That was promising.

-

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Worlds of Darkness

By GirlX2

Chapter Two

-

Wilson had learned long ago not to talk about glowing eyes in dark places, or creaking growls in an already-settled house. People tended to think you were crazy or at the very least on drugs. When he was young it had simply been written off as a childhood fear. As he grew older he'd learned to stop telling his parents about the sightings and begun keeping the closet door shut, sometimes with heavy objects on the nights he was most afraid. As he'd moved on to college and his own apartment, he'd gotten used to keeping the door shut, and mostly forgot about the eyes and the noises. Mostly.

But something about House's bedroom had brought the memories screaming back. He was having nightmares again, albeit more infrequently than when he'd been a child. The last incident had brought back the glowing eyes in the closet as well. Such things wouldn't do. He was an adult, for God's sake. A doctor at that. He was too old and too smart to let childhood fears mess with his head in this way.

Except they were. And now House knew. And that was gong to lead to questions and prying and poking and calls to his Mother about his childhood sleeping habits and--

No. He wouldn't let this charade go forth. He was going to deal with this tonight. House had a case that would likely keep him at the hospital for hours. It was the perfect night to get over this foolishness.

It was supposed to storm tonight. Full moon, too. That fit quite well.

-

Wilson was right about one thing--House's case had kept him at the hospital until nearly three in the morning. The diagnostician returned home tired but triumphant, and ready to wake Wilson and brag about his conquest over disease.

House was then understandably disappointed to find the apartment empty upon his return.

'No note. That's not like him.' House frowned and check his answering machine and cell phone for messages. Nothing.

He sat on the bed, more puzzled than worried. Wilson had come home after a shift at the clinic, and hadn't been called back in as far as House knew. If he'd been called away anywhere else he would have left some sort of message.

House dialed Wilson's cell number, sure the oncologist would be answering from the 7/11 or some other likely location. There were only a few places open this late.

The nearly-immediate ring coming from the closet startled House. He limped over quickly. Wilson had left his phone in a jacket pocket and gone off somewhere without it. Very unlike him. It was almost enough to worry House--were he the sort of person to worry about things like that.

As he opened the door he nearly did a double take. The cell phone was there, laying on the floor. The rest of the closet was in wild disarray, with clothes torn off their hangers, ripped up on the floor, or apparently just missing.

House's mouth dried at the sight. He picked up the phone gingerly. The screen had been smashed on the floor. Some of the plastic was actually stuck in the hardwood.

"Shit."

-

To be continued...


	3. Chapter 3

Worlds of Darkness

By GirlX2

Chapter 3

-

It had been five days since Wilson vanished. The police had inspected the apartment inside and out, but couldn't find anything, even in the closet. Wilson's broken phone had gone with them, but it hadn't had any prints on it.

It was only after the security tapes for the building had been reviewed that House remembered Wilson's waking nightmare. The police had tape of Wilson entering the building, but there was no tape of Wilson (or even someone with a roughly-human sized duffle bag) leaving the apartment. There was a back exit, but it led to a dead-end between buildings. This had led to the other apartments in his section of the building getting searched, but still nothing was turned up.

After the first night the Police had cleared him to use his bedroom again. The closet was marked off with yellow tape, even though nothing was left inside it. House found himself staring at the open door, the last night he'd been with Wilson playing over in his mind. Even in the face of the evidence, it was ludicrous. Wilson hadn't been snatched away by whatever it was in his nightmares. It was just a weird fucking coincidence that they'd laugh over when Wilson was back.

He couldn't let himself think otherwise.

House rolled over, facing away from the yawning door. Work hadn't been any better than home. His fellows had varied between peppering him with reassurances and keeping all mention of Wilson out of the office, but he'd paid them little attention. Cuddy had tried to get him to take some vacation time, but he'd refused. With his lover gone he needed something to keep him occupied. If his mind wandered--

House clamped down on that thought, swinging himself out of the bed faster than his bed leg could comfortably take. He'd already had his nightly vicodin, but the pain wasn't even close to tolerable. He was going to try one last shot of alcohol before going on to the morphine. Wilson was known to check the supply form time to time, making sure he wasn't sneaking it on the side in order to hide breakthrough pain.

Not that it would matter if Wilson was dead somewhere.

'There. You've thought it. Thinking it doesn't make it a fact.' House limped back from the kitchen, scotch bottle in hand.

The slightly-wavering closet door caused him to stop as he entered the room. The lights were still off, but the faint glow he'd seen before days ago was back. Now there was nothing to blame the reflection on either--the closet had been totally cleaned out.

House approached the door slowly, noting the light as it faded backwards. It was a trick of the light. It had to be. The closet wasn't deep enough for anything to move that far back. He limped forward, expecting his hand to hit the back wall and obscure the faint dots.

Cold, empty air met his hand.

House drew back suddenly. The closet was not that deep.

Instantly, he was slashing his cane through the yellow tape. He limped forward, the bottle in his hand forgotten. The dots receded further back, now going much faster than the diagnostician. That ruled out an optical illusion.

'This is impossible.' House limped forwards, now clearly beyond the boundaries of his actual closet. The floor had converted from hardwood to dirt, and he couldn't touch a wall. He turned around, the doorway a shrinking beacon of light.

"I can always get back there if…" He trailed off. He wouldn't be going back. Not without Wilson. As insane as this was, it was happening, and Wilson was somewhere in this dark place.

House started forwards again, chasing slowly after the dots. Something in here had some explaining to do.

The dots didn't stay in view very long, but a shuffling run quickly took their place. House tried to keep up with the noise, but it easily outpaced his crippled step.

"Damn." House stopped, panting. The shuffling step faded into the distance.

House took the moment to check out his surroundings. It was dark, but not completely black--a greenish light that seemed to emanate from nowhere lit the place. There weren't any visible walls or other manufactured structures. Just vast mostly-empty space. Stunted, twisted trees dotted the landscape along with a few craggy rock monoliths. The ground was simply dirt, although the dirt under his feet had a slightly lighter color than the dirt around it.

"It's a path." House murmured, turning around. It led back to his closet door.

Whatever he'd been chasing had headed this way.

House started forwards again, his step slower. He didn't dare tax his leg beyond it's breaking point. He'd left his vicodin in the apartment, and sure as hell wasn't going back for it now.

-

What might have been as much as an hour later (he'd left his watch in the apartment as well) found House staring into the distance. He'd seen no signs of life since losing track of The Dots. Now, he spotted a slightly lighter area coming from below a small rise in the landscape. He limped towards it quickly.

The glowing boxy structure surprised him. It was the first manufactured thing he'd set eyes on since leaving his room. It seemed to be a box of yellow light. He approached it carefully. It was about the size of a large closet.

He prodded the light with his cane. The walls seemed to waver for a moment, then formed into crisscrossing bars.

Huddled in the center was Wilson.

-

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Worlds of Darkness

By GirlX2

Chapter 4

-

The oncologist was sitting in the exact center of the box. His clothes were disheveled and torn, but House couldn't see any obvious injuries, aside from some bruises on his arm. It looked as though something with immense fingers had grabbed his arm.

"Go back to the apartment, House." Wilson didn't look at him. His gaze was locked on the floor of his prison.

"What the hell is going on?" House demanded. He thrust his cane though the bars, jabbing Wilson in the shoulder. "I've apparently discovered the back road to Narnia-from-hell, and you're telling me to go home!"

"There's nothing you can do. Go home before something comes and eats you." Wilson finally looked at him. There were black circles under his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere until you're out of there." House growled.

Wilson gave a long suffering sigh and dropped his head. "House, please, listen to me just this once. There's nothing you can do."

"First you tell me why. Otherwise I'm going to start yelling until something out there hears me."

Wilson bit his lip, but nodded. "I can tell you what I know, but you have to promise to leave right after."

"No."

"House-"

"I'm not going anywhere and you're going to explain."

The fatigue evidenced in Wilson's face caused the Oncologist to give way. "The night you came home late I left the closet open and slept facing it. I was trying to get over a child-hood fear. Then…those glowing eyes came back. I was going to shut the closet door, but something grabbed me."

"Your phone was smashed."

Wilson shrugged. "Maybe one of us stepped on it, I don't know. I think it knocked me out, because the next thing I knew, I was in here."

"You've been in there for five days." House withdrew his cane from the bars. As it came out, it brushed though them. Intrigued, House touched the light. His hand slipped though easily.

"The light isn't solid." He darted forwards and grabbed Wilson's arm. The startled oncologist was easily pulled to his feet.

"House, don't!"

House tugged him forwards. There were no blood-curdling screams of pain produced as Wilson's arm slid though the bars, nor did blood start spilling from laser cuts in his skin.

It was simply that the appendage House held was no longer an arm.

A--for lack of a better word--tentacle was wound around House's hand. It had a purplish hue. Several suckers on the underside nipped at his skin.

Wilson was staring at the appendage in utter horror. House slowly released his grip. As the tentacle slid back though the bars, it reformed into a human arm. The wavering tip became the end of Wilson's middle finger. It might have been an illusion, were it not for the slime on House's hand.

"That was a new one." Wilson choked on the words.

"The bars turn you into cthullu?" House's attempt at humor failed as horror seeped into his voice.

"Not always. It's been different each time." Wilson slid back onto the floor. "I tried getting out ten minutes after I woke up here. When I left I was some kind of werewolf or something. As soon as I stepped back inside the bars I was normal. I knew I shouldn't have looked at you earlier. Damnit, why were you even awake?"

"The dots--the eyes--that was you?" House slid onto the ground, trying to look Wilson in the eye. "Why did you run from me?"

"Because I was a fucking monster! I didn't think giving you a heart attack would improve the situation!"

"But letting me think you were somewhere in here being devoured was?"

Wilson didn't reply for a moment. "I'm sorry for that. But there's nothing you can do here, House. I've tried everything I can think of to get out of here without changing, and it hasn't worked."

"We haven't tried everything I can think of." House replied.

"House, please, just go home before the door closes or something comes here and tries to kill you." Wilson pleaded. "The things in here are even worse than the things I've been turned into."

"So, I should just leave you here to hang out with them? I don't think so." House reached between the bars again. "We're both getting out of here. Now."

"Sure. I'll just show up at work dripping blood and slime from a brand-new set of fangs." Wilson growled. "I can't go home House."

"Are you still thinking like you when you change?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then it's just cosmetic. In case you noticed, I don't care about cosmetics unless they're on Cuddy. We're going home." House hooked his cane around Wilson's neck and pulled him close to the light. "I'd rather have you home and a freak than here and dead."

A small smile touched the corner of Wilson's lips. "If that's your way of saying 'looks don't matter', that's almost sweet."

"And that's your way of giving in. Let's go."

Wilson climbed to his feet. "Okay."

House watched as Wilson slowly stepped through the bars.

-

To Be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter 5

By GirlX2

-

Whatever House expected to see when Wilson stepped through the bars, this wasn't it. Some sort of snarling beast with googily bloodshot eyes and gleaming claws (or slimy tentacles) was what House expected.

The humanoid pillar of black fire was something else entirely.

"I told you this was a bad idea." The thing that was still Wilson spoke. His voice was…papery, somehow. Almost like leaves rustling. Or burning.

Now House could make out his facial features. They were highlighted in dark purple flames that flickered, making Wilson's appearance waver. It was almost like he was a living photo negative.

"I thought you said the cage changed you into a monster." House circled him slowly.

"This isn't bad enough for you?" He was speaking in a burning whisper.

"It doesn't fit the traditional definition of monster. It's more like--"

"Like?" Wilson recognized the now-standard epiphany moment.

"Like something a kid would have a nightmare about. You're some little kid's bad dream."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No, it's supposed to help me figure out what the hell is going on here." House replied. He prodded Wilson with his cane.

"House, don't, it could catch on fire." Wilson flickered out its way, almost nimbly.

"It isn't even singed." House murmured. This time, he grabbed for Wilson's arm.

"House!" Even his yell was barely above as whisper as House's hand glided through his arm.

"Warm, but not burning. And you're not substantial."

"And yet you chose to date me."

"This defies every known law of--everything." House growled. "If we go home with you like this you could die or vanish outright."

Wilson paused for a moment. "You must be really worried. You didn't turn that into a joke about me getting snuffed."

"You said you've seen other things in here?" House asked.

"Yeah, a few times." Wilson may have been shuddering. It was hard to tell.

"Did they seem intelligent?"

"What do you--House, NO. We're not going to look for a monster to question!"

"Do you have a better idea?"

"You didn't like my 'you go, I stay' idea, so no."

"Then we're running out of options. Unless you want to hop in and out of your cage until you're something that can survive in our reality as well as this one we need to find out more about what's going on."

"If**--if**--we do find something, you're going to hide and let me do all the talking. I'm not solid, so nothing can hurt me."

"Get a lot of monster-on-monster violence in here?" House started forwards, on another, slightly less traveled path.

"I have no idea. All I've heard is fighting from a distance." Wilson replied, following him. He didn't seem to be walking--rather, it looked like he was floating just over the ground surface. "But the things I've seen were either built for power or speed. There was one really tall thing that was humanoid, but it's legs, arms, fingers--everything was spider-thin. Moved like one too."

"Sounds like the boogieman."

Wilson flickered slightly, his version of a big shudder. "Yeah."

House paused his limping step. "We're going to figure this out."

Any further discussion was cut off by heavy crunching noises headed towards them.

"Oh, no, not this one." Wilson scanned the area frantically. "Hide!"

"Where?" House demanded. The terrain around them was totally devoid of anything.

"Oh, shit…Just get behind me and don't say anything. Maybe it won't notice you." Wilson got in front of House.

"What won't notice me?"

"The thing I'm about to talk to." Wilson replied as something crested the slight rise in the round before them.

-

To Be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter 6

By GirlX2

-

The thing (there was no other way to classify it) was easily twice Wilson's height and several times his girth. Multiple tongues slavered out of a gaping, fang-filled maw. Misshapen, crab-like arms hung nearly to the ground. Spikes rose at irregular intervals down it's mottled grayish-brown body. The eyes were yellow, set surprising low and small.

House found his cane wobbling slightly as his hands shook. He steadied them, casting his eyes on Wilson's back.

The thing fixed one eye on Wilson. It lips drew back in a horrible parody of a grin.

"Ah, the fressssssh arrival, yessss?" Its voice was low, the extra tongues hissing as it talked. "Finally come out of your ssssshell."

"I-I guess." Wilson was flickering alarmingly now. House wished he could put a studying hand on his shoulder.

"Whossssss thissss?" The thing eyed House. Slobber dripped down it's face. "He'ss not like usss. Damaged goodsssss. Makesss for a poor monsssster."

"Never mind him." Wilson looked a little more solid now. "Is there someone here who's in charge? A leader?"

"Leader? Here? You are new." The thing chuckled under it's breath. "You don't know how it workssss yet, do you? There are thossssse like ussss, and there are the Takerssss. The Takerssss are what bring ussssss here from the other ssssside and make ussss what we are."

"Then that's who we want to see." House found his voice.

The thing looked at him curiously. "Ssssee a Taker? Why?"

"Because my friend doesn't want to be trapped in here for the rest of his life." House managed to keep his voice steady.

For a moment, the creature didn't respond. Slowly, it began to make huffing noises. A fresh wave or revulsion washed over the two as they realized it was laughing.

"You're trying to sssave him!" The thing was nearly bent double from the force of the laughs.

"What's funny about that?" Wilson's whisper was barley audible about the huffs.

"It'sss been ssso long sssince ssssomeone tried to leave." The laughter stopped abruptly and the thing stood to it's full height. "In the end, mossst of usss don't want to go back _there_ except to do our dutiessss. The usually don't take onesss like you who actually want to go home. You musssst be sssspecial."

The thing advanced a few steps. "Sssspecial ones are rare. You make the resssst of us look bad."

"I just want to go home." Wilson replied quietly.

"You have no home." The thing growled menacingly. "But if you and your friend wissssh to leave, I can hasssten your departure!"

One of the massive arms flew at the two men. It passed through Wilson barely impeded and landed House with a solid blow. The diagnostician was knocked solidly onto his back, winded, the cane torn from his hand.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" The sudden blaze of fire in front of him radiated intense heat. Wilson's voice was now a roaring furnace. He seemed to have grown, somehow--House's view of the monster was blocked by the dark flames.

"Nice trick. I've sssseen better!" The creature flew forward at Wilson, about to rip him and the older man to shreds.

The smell of sizzling, rotting flesh sprung up instantly. The creature howled and flew backwards, flames roaring across it's leathery hide. It took off across the dimly lit landscape, vanishing quickly.

"House!" The roar tapered back down to a whisper as Wilson dwindled to his appropriate size. The searing heat vanished as he tried to check his lover for wounds.

"Stop that, I'm alright." House didn't try to move away from the warm, gently caress as it traveled over his body. "It just knocked the air out of me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." House sat up slowly. "And it's a small price to pay. We got the information we needed."

"What information? That some sub-race of monsters comes to people's homes and takes them to…to be turned into freaks like me?!" Wilson's statement was choked with a sudden sob. He collapsed forward into House's lap, trembling. Warmth, but no weight, was all House could feel. He desperately wished he could wrap Wilson in his arms--but he still couldn't touch him. He wasn't even sure why Wilson hadn't simply passed though his legs onto the dirt.

"You're not a freak." He murmured. "And you just saved my life. Not for the first time, either."

"It's my fault you're here. You heard that thing--I'm _special_." There was a tone of self-loathing in Wilson's voice that House had never heard before.

"I could do the clichéd thing and say 'you are special' but it wouldn't help." House said quietly. "What I am going to do is stay here with you until you feel like going forward and trying to find one of these Takers."

"And what makes you think it'll be so easy to find one?"

"Because that thing you just whipped said something about having duties in our reality; and you haven't gotten any job-training yet." House replied. "Either they think you're much smarter than you are, or they're waiting for you to show up. I think leaving your cage for more than ten minutes is the signal that you're ready."

The trembling didn't entirely cease as Wilson sat up. "And if we find one?"

"We find out what it's going to take to get you out of here--hopefully as a human."

Wilson flickered at this. "That thing that attacked us--if what it said was true, it used to be human. All the things in here were."

House had no reply for this.

-

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter 7

By GirlX2

-

It was a while before Wilson was ready to go on. Intangible or not, the fight had taken it out of him. He was flicking more now as fatigue seeped into his body. They would have to rest again soon, and probably for a lot longer.

House tried to do a mental calculation of how long it'd been since his last vicodin. Without the fight and the walking he probably would have been able to last a lot longer, but it was moot at this point. He wasn't turning back until they got some answers.

The path they'd been following had gotten wider. Every now and then they'd find signs that something else had been traveling it--scuffed prints, things tossed by the wayside, and a few spots of fluids that House didn't care to dwell on. They hadn't seen any other monsters since the last encounter.

Wilson suddenly stumbled--quite a trick considering he wasn't walking, but floating. House reached out, trying to stem his fall, and could only watch as Wilson passed through his arm onto the ground.

"Just an air pocket." Wilson murmured quickly, getting back to his feet.

House didn't reply for a moment. "How is it that you can touch me, but I pass right through you?"

Wilson shrugged. "Maybe I can hover at skin-level, I don't know. I can still feel textures too."

"Interesting, since you don't have nerve endings."

"I've seen monsters that couldn't possibly be alive--vital organs hanging in mid-air, mis-matched limbs--but they seem to be doing just fine." Wilson replied. "The rules of science are loosely enforced, at best."

"Great, so all we need to do is call Mulder and Scully in on a consult."

Wilson flickered again, and the light in his eyes seemed to fade. "I think I need to sleep."

"It was well after midnight when you came to the apartment; both of us need to sleep." House replied. "I'll take first watch."

"But--"

"You need to be fresh in case something decides I look tasty. You sleep first, Wilson."

Wilson must have been exhausted, because he didn't argue. They wandered off the path slightly, to a large rock planted in the wasteland. It would do for minimal cover.

It didn't take Wilson long to drop off. He'd laid on the ground to sleep, but soon resumed hovering. House watched as Wilson's edges blurred with sleep. He almost resembled a real fire.

House massaged his leg gently. The landscape had been mostly flat with a few gentle hills--something he could manage fairly easily. It was one of the few bits of luck they'd had since this nightmare had begun.

Wilson suddenly whimpered in his sleep. Unthinkingly, House reached out to comfort him.

The searing heat made him draw his hand back quickly. Wilson appeared to be fighting something in his nightmare, and his fiery body had responded in turn.

House nearly called out to wake him up when the struggle abruptly ended. Wilson sank back into motionless, and hopefully dreamless, sleep.

House let him go. He needed the rest.

-

Wilson awoke to the sound of House snoring gently beside him. He shook his head slightly, but couldn't fault the man for falling asleep. It was a wonder he'd lasted as long as he had already. He hadn't seen House take a vicodin, either. He probably hadn't brought any with him.

As if answering this thought, House awoke with a groan. "Was I out long?"

"You tell me. I just woke up."

"I must have been out for a while." House shook his head. A thin sheen of sweat was coating his skin.

"You need your meds."

"Yeah."

"But you're not going to go home to get them."

"Nope."

"At any other time I'd be celebrating your sudden vicodin abstinence." Wilson sighed.

"Celebrate this instead." House replied, picking himself up off the ground. "I see an actual building in the distance."

Wilson jumped to his feet and found himself hovering several feet in the air, momentarily. He saw the building House was talking about--the quintessential Haunted House if there ever was one.

"You've just got all sorts of tricks." House observed as Wilson returned to his near-ground hovering. "Now fetch the stick."

Wilson rolled his eyes, but handed House his cane. "You seem to have gotten over the 'My lover is alive and that's great' phase."

"And you're no longer crying every three seconds. That was a good sleep." House observed dryly and started forwards. "Now, off to see whatever creepy-crawlie runs this show."

"Just don't do anything. Let me do all the talking."

"Because that worked _so_ well last time."

"If we get out of this alive, remind me to be mad about that remark."

"Sure thing."

-

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

World of Darkness

By GirlX2

Chapter 8

-

The house was a darkly painted, foreboding structure. Shutters hung off black windows, clattering in a non-existent breeze. Paint peeled way from wood on the rotting porch. The front door gaped open, revealing more darkness.

"So…you can go first."

"How generous of you." Wilson remarked dryly, approaching the door.

"It makes sense. If something tries to attack, they hit you--or rather, don't hit you--first, and I get time to hobble out of the way." House replied, joining him on the steps.

Wilson murmured a mock protest under his breath. All of this was just House trying to keep his mind off going through that door--not surprising, seeing what had happened to him the last time he'd gone through a darkened doorway.

He stepped through, and heard House clatter in right behind him.

In a moment, his eyes adjusted to the light. The front hallway of the house was in dusty disrepair, much like the outer structure. It was sparsely furnished, boasting little more than broken laps and wobbly-looking tables.

The entryway was a long hallway that seemed to extend into infinity, belying the size it's been outside. Wilson saw multiple doorways lining the hall, each closed.

"Shall we?" House hobbled past him.

"I don't even know where to start." Wilson murmured as they approached the first door.

"We'll do it scientifically. We are doctors after all." House grumbled, opening the door. "It's what we do."

A blank brick wall across the entrance halted them.

"Figures." House muttered, trying the next one. It too was blocked. "I guess this is how they keep the Jehovah's witnesses from finding them.

"One of them must be a real doorway." Wilson tried a knob, but couldn't gain purchase on it.

"Let's just hope we find it before I die of old age." House grumbled, trying Wilson's door for him.

-

After what seemed like miles of walking, the real door was found. They'd long since lost sight of the entryway to the house, it fading back into the distance some hours ago.

This door swung open easily, letting a slightly brighter light fill the hall around the two men.

"About time." House barged though the door, little regarding the earlier plan of sending Wilson ahead.

Wilson sped past him. "Just be careful. We don't even know what this room is--it might not be what we're looking for."

The room appeared to be the size of a large ballroom. At the other end, shapes moved in the shadows. House halted for a moment.

"I think we've found your boss."

A large sofa-like chair had come into view. The creature atop of it lounged lazily, limbs trailing across the dusty-looking upholstery. Two sets of green-diamond eyes rested above a mouthless face. It was powerfully built, about the size and shape of a well-muscles man, with grayish skin.

Wilson flicked visibly for a few seconds. "That's it. That's the thing that brought me here."

Were it not for his sickening demeanor, House would have charged forward right there. Instead, he limped slowly besides Wilson as they approached the mockery of a throne.

The creature's eyes met theirs, one set to each man.

"You've finally chosen a form. That bodes well for you." The voice emanated from the mouthless face quite audibly. "But you've also brought a friend. That is considerably less tolerable."

"He didn't bring me here--I came by myself." House replied grimly, and tried to keep from clutching his aching leg.

"I see." The thing stepped off the throne and approached them slowly, powerful muscles bunching just beneath the skin. Wilson shuddered.

"Still afraid of me? There is no reason for that." It chided in an almost-gentle tone of voice. "You are my subject now, and have all the rights any other subject has. You only need fear me if you disobey my will."

"Why me?" Wilson found his voice. "I have no interest in scaring children, or escaping my life. Why have you been after me?"

One set of eyes narrowed. "You've been talking to the rabble, I see. Then your information is poor and fragmented, at best."

"That tends to happen when you're kidnapped and held prisoner by monsters." House shot in a calm voice.

The other set of eyes narrowed. "Be quiet until I decide what to do with you."

"I don't think so."

"It wasn't a request."

Instantly, two shadowy beings grasped House by the arms. Before either man could react, a square of green light sprung up around him. The shadow-beings dissipated.

"House!" Wilson was instantly at the light walls. He placed a hand on one, and found he couldn't pass through it. House did the same, now for the fist time looking truly afraid. The walls seemed to blot out his voice--his lips moved silently.

"He'll be fine, as long as he stays within the confines of his prison." The thing said. "I need to talk to you in peace."

Wilson turned on him, blazing. "If you hurt him--"

"He will come to no harm in there." The thing replied coldly, both sets of eyes on Wilson now. "It will merely keep him quiet."

House shook his head and withdrew his hand from the wall. The message was clear--Talk to It.

"Alright." Wilson didn't try to conceal his anger. "Talk."

"I'll answer your first question, since it suits me best: My interest in you is not for you to go as others do into the rooms of children and frighten them with dumb-shows or scary noises. You will serve a much greater purpose.

"You know the human mind well--your association with that has proven that fact time and again." It indicated House. "You know what can truly terrify a man, or bring him to the point of despair. It was your job, if I'm not mistaken."

"I'm a doctor. I heal the sick."

"And when they can't be healed, you must explain that." The thing replied. "You choose to tell them gently, but could just as easily destroy them with your words. You have, sometimes, even without meaning to."

"I don't-"

"Oh, no, there's no joy in it for you." It cut him off. "But that's what sets you apart from the rabble here. If you enjoyed the work, you would be wrong for your position."

"My position?"

"You will become a trainer of my legions. It takes a man who understands human fear to exploit it for gain--and taking no joy in it ensures you will not let your emotions get in the way of teaching."

Wilson felt a cold chill go through his body. Was this what the other monster had meant by 'special'?

"I won't do it." He tried desperately not to flicker.

"You will. Even without him as leverage, you would have eventually." The thing approached House and tapped it's chin thoughtfully. "The question is, how to best use him to my advantage."

"STAY AWAY FROM HIM!"

The thing ignored Wilson's roar. "You cannot harm me in my dominion."

Wilson reached for him, but his flames melted away at the grayish skin. It was telling the truth.

"Ah, I have just the thing." The smile that couldn't be expressed with lips lighted the creature's eyes. "A punishment for his insolence, and insurance on you."

The creature reached through the walls, and grasped House by the neck.

"Being my subject is not within your grasp---but in another way you may still serve me well."

It pulled him forwards.

-

To be Continued...


	9. Chapter 9

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter Nine

By GirLX2

-

Wilson flew at the creature, and could almost feel his fiery heart beating in terror. House was helpless in this thing's grip, weak and fatigued (not to mention hurting and in the early stages of an involuntary vicodin detox).

"LET HIM G-"

Wilson's roar cut off as he came to an abrupt stop.

The change that rippled over House as he passed through the light wasn't a hellish decent into slimy monsterdom, nor did he start screaming in unimaginable pain.

House, now hanging from the creatures hand, kicking and twisting with all his might, had been reduced to a child.

The creature dropped House unceremoniously onto the ground, where he lay whimpering. He couldn't have been more than four years old. He held his cane out with both hands, as if to ward off the creature.

"House." Again, Wilson's voice was back at a burning whisper. House didn't look at him, but lay trembling on the ground.

"If you want him to remain in one piece, I suggest you do as I say." The creature laid both sets of eyes on Wilson. "Come to me. Slowly."

Wilson did so, eyes never leaving House. Once, House glanced at him, but his eyes returned immediately to the floor.

A cold thought struck Wilson. How much of House's adult intellect remained after he had changed? Did he know where he was, or even who Wilson was?

"Good." The thing sounded pleased. "Now, you will listen to me very carefully. As long as you do what I say, he will not be harmed. Step outside your bounds, and--"

He snapped his fingers.

"I will have to repeat this."

Instantly, the shadow beings were back. They wavered for a moment, then formed quickly into toothy, jagged creatures. House whimpered and jumped to his feet. Instantly, he was running, the creatures on his heels.

Wilson wasn't even aware he'd attacked until one of the creatures was wilting before his flames. It seemed that even though he couldn't harm the leader, he could still take the minions down a peg. The thing was yelling something, but Wilson didn't care to listen.

The other creature had gotten House against a wall. He was using the cane like a bat, but his blows didn't derail the creature. One clawed paw knocked the wood from his hands. Wilson blazed forward, watching as House faked right, dove left after the cane, and took off running again.

Wilson swept past him, straight into the shadow. It easily forced him backwards--the fighting was taking it's toll on the oncologist. Blows didn't seem to affect this creature, and his flame was rapidly dwindling.

Locked in what was likely a to-the-death battle, Wilson found himself wondering 'What does the flame of a candle look like after the candle is blown out?'

A cry took his attention from his opponent. The leader--king--thing--had caught up to House. He'd taken the cane away, and pinned House to the wall with one strong arm.

Somehow, he managed to blaze away from the shadow, setting fire to it as he went. The black flames burned the creature away instantly.

"Let him go." Wilson was to weak to roar at this point.

"I may have, if you'd obeyed me." The thing replied grimly. "But you couldn't even stand still while my guards gave him a small fright."

His hand moved off House's chest, to his neck.

"I could kill him. Easily. His neck would snap like a twig."

House's frightened blue eyes strayed from the creature's face to Wilson's. He didn't look away this time.

"Jimmy--"

The plea was cut off as the creature tightened his grip. "I've told you once to be quiet. I won't tell you again."

It didn't matter that Wilson's flames melted away as he tried to tear the creature from House. All that mattered was the distraction. If he could give House the smallest chance to escape, it would be worth it. Even as he tried to grapple with the creature, Wilson could feel his flame vanishing.

What would happen if it dwindled to nothing?

'Let's find out.' Wilson thought, wrapping around the creature.

-

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter 10

By GirlX2

-

House watched as the creature grappled with Wilson. Perhaps grappled wasn't the right word, though--everywhere the thing touched, Wilson's flames vanished. His features, indistinct as they were, seemed to grow gaunt. As he struggled, his flames were turning from black to a dirty gray.

Wilson was dying before his eyes.

If he kept at that thing, he would vanish, or burn himself out. House steeled himself and swung himself into the thing's legs, knocking it off balance. They both tumbled to the ground, freeing Wilson from it's touch.

"Leave him alone!"

God, he wished he could keep his voice from quivering.

The thing turned on House. "You've outlived your usefulness."

Damn. Hadn't they just done this? House was still against the wall, and Wilson still couldn't do anything to help him. All they had done was make the creature before them even madder.

"No." Wilson was lying on the floor. His color hadn't returned, but was no longer flickering. "I'll do what you want--just let him go."

"No. You won't." The anger had cooled slightly from It's voice. "I can see that no matter how I try to menace him or entice you, you won't follow my orders."

"So…you'll let him go?"

Wilson flinched at the question. There was an unnatural note of hope in House's voice--either he was cracking under the strain, or the transformation had reached past his body and into his mind. In either case, it didn't bode well.

The thing laughed cheerlessly. "Why, of course not. The only reason I haven't killed him yet is that I put to much effort into bringing him here."

It turned from House, regarding Wilson coldly. "I've had eyes on you for so long, and all for naught. I don't like being disappointed."

"If you watched me that long, you should have known I wouldn't do this." Wilson hissed.

"I suppose. But you are unique in a long line of superiors, James. Something to be proud of, I suppose. At least as proud as one an be while being in your position."

The last word was accompanied by a snap of the thing's fingers. Instantly, a large cylinder rose from the floor, a thick cable extruding from it's top. The cable wrapped around Wilson's neck, and pulled him onto the top of the structure. It pulled taunt for a moment, nearly choking him. Wilson was held firm to the five-foot high surface, able to stand--but only just.

"What is this?"

"It's a candle, James. You're going to be my candle-flame, since you're unwilling to be my servant. I will keep you until I grow bored, and then snuff you out. And, just so you know, as an immortal, I may not grow bored for a very long time."

"No!" House was instantly clawing at the thing. "Let him go!"

"I will--if you can reach him."

The lie was so obvious in It's voice, Wilson expected House to cry out in frustration. Instead, there was a gooey SMACK. Wilson looked over the edge of the candle as House attempted to claw his way up it.

"House, stop!"

House did stop, but it wasn't by choice. His hands and feet had stuck in the tar-like wax of the candle. He was struggling but couldn't get free.

"Wilson, help me!" Tears began to stream down his face.

Wilson reached for him, but his hand could barely brush House's face, let alone any part that was stuck in the wax. "I…I can't."

"Don't worry--what's left of him will be freed once you've burnt the candle down." The thing said. "He'll be pulled into it soon enough."

"No!" There was barely a feeble flicker as Wilson reached for it. He'd used up whatever power it was that let him rage.

Tendrils of wax were creeping up House's arms and legs, pulling the loose cloth of his night clothes taunt against his small body. They were pulling him forwards, slowly but surely. He was still struggeling, terror emblazoned on his face.

"I'll take my leave, for the moment. I suspect you two will want to talk." The thing smiled and vanished.

-

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter Eleven

By GirlX2

-

"House. Look at me. Say something."

House was pointedly avoiding Wilson's eyes. His gaze was cast on the mass of wax before him. He occasionally pulled at it, but that only made him sink deeper--an Uncle Remus fable come to hellish life.

"House, please, I need you to talk to me."

"Nothing to talk about." House's voice was choked. "You're trapped, I'm trapped. We've both been changed into…things. If this candle doesn't get us, the monsters will."

"I won't let that happen." There was a sudden fierceness in Wilson's voice that belied his whisper. "I won't let them have you."

House didn't reply to this. Wilson watched him as the small body wracked with held in sobs, making him convulse against the candle. The tendrils continued to creep around him. His arms had been drawn in almost to his elbows.

Wilson tugged futilely at the wick that somehow held him in place.

"The one thing I can actually touch…"

The strange tone in Wilson's voice drew House's eyes upwards. "What?"

"I can touch the wick. That's how it's holding me." Wilson had vanished from sight, onto the center of the candle. "I can use it!"

"How?"

"If I can get it out of the candle, I can free both of us. I can take us home."

"But you can't get it out. In case you didn't know, there's a ginormous candle holding it in place."

"I know." There was a strange note in the burning voice. "I'm going to go in and get it out."

"You're going to burn through the candle? You'll die!"

The anguished cry was enough to bring Wilson back to the edge. House could see the still-white loop around his neck. "I'm not going to die. I'm not going to burn it, either--I'm going to ghost through it and warm the wax just enough so that it'll be pliable, and I can yank it out."

House hated the way the tears were rolling down his face, but he simply couldn't help it. "You won't be able to get air--you'll suffocate or go out."

"House, I promise you; I'm going to come back." Wilson's hand cuped his face, warming the salty tracks. "I will not leave you here alone."

When House didn't come back with a comment about everyone lying or promises being broken, Wilson felt a chill go through his body. The eyes staring up at him were full of fear, and hurt, and something that Wilson almost couldn't identify. Vulnerability rests uneasily in House's eyes like the foreign intruder it is.

He wanted so badly to believe that Wilson is coming back, but he simply couldn't.

"I won't be long." Wilson tore himself away finally. He couldn't stare at those eyes anymore. Not until he has gotten House out of this terrible place.

House waited until he's sure Wilson is gone before crying aloud. The wax will muffle his sobs, and even in this state, something of House's pride remains. He knows his mind is slipping away, but losing it in comparison to losing Wilson to this place, is nothing. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was supposed to find Wilson, battle off whatever demons lay in wait, and bring him home, safe. Now, they're both going to die, frightened, and alone.

He struggled against the wax again. At least it's on the outside of his clothes--When those sucking tendrils reach his skin, it just may drive him off the edge. Now his elbows are gone into the candle as well. His legs are being swallowed by tendrils, not drawn forward just yet.

A movie scene popped into his head suddenly. The little boy from 'Poltergeist' being eaten by the evil tree in the backyard. The Dad had saved him from it off screen. House was sure he wouldn't be so lucky. Wilson had been gone for so long now--he must have been swallowed up entirely in the wax by now. A whiff of smoke, trapped for all eternity.

'At least once I'm in there we'll be together.' There is no comfort in this thought.

House stared at the wax for a moment. Maybe, if he leaned forwards this would all go much quicker--

The thought is jolted as something moves against his hands. Something warm.

"Wilson." The strength has fled from his voice.

The warmth grips his hands briefly, much too briefly, before fading back into the wax.

"…Remember your promise." House whispers.

-

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter twelve

By GirlX2

-

Wilson tried not to think about the wax that was coating him. It wouldn't have helped anyway; he was barely keeping the panic at bay as it was.

There were occasional air pockets in the wax, although he discovered that in his new form breathing had become irrelevant. The air merely helped his flame to keep the wax melting around him. He climbed down the rope-like wick, trying to estimate jut how far he was from the bottom. He'd slithered down what felt like miles already--it couldn't be much longer till he hit the floor.

The sudden brush of House's finger's startled him for a moment. He could see nothing but black, but he could feel House's faint struggles through the wax. He paused long enough to grasp House's hands. This stopped the tremors, at least for the moment.

'I must be close to the ground now.' Wilson realized. House had been stuck to the lowest third of the candle.

Somewhat renewed, he began to climb a little faster. His strength wasn't returning to him as it had before, but at least he felt no weaker.

'I have to hurry. That thing talks big, but it may be back to torment us soon.' Wilson hurried on, and tried not to think of his helpless friend stuck, bug-like, in the tarry wax.

-

House didn't tremble as the ruler approached him from the dark. Much.

It eyed him almost curiously. "Why aren't you struggling?"

"Wilson's getting me out of here." There was little emotion in the statement.

The thing let out a barking laugh. "Yes, I saw. Ingenious, almost. I expect you think he'll be back any moment, the wick in his arms, ready to cart you off to safety."

"Yeah."

"Interesting--he's actually managed to convince you of that. After all this time, you've given over to trust."

House shut his eyes and turned his head. He didn't want to hear this.

"Well, I won't engage you in gloating--that would be pointless. If Wilson has survived, he'll be out in a moment, ready to fight and die--if he's already dead it merely shortens the process." The thing's voice grew into a hiss.

House was pulled free of the wax, his arms wrenched painfully. The thing held him by the base of his neck and shoulders--almost, but not quite, cutting off his airway. The mouth-less face appeared to be almost smiling.

"It's been so long since I've tasted fresh young fear. My subjects take all they find for themselves--such is the price of leadership! But, since this is a special occasion, I'll indulge…"

The lower half of the thing's face split impossibly open, revealing jagged, needle-point teeth in innumerable rows.

Now, House screamed.

-

Wilson finally reached the base. The wick was secured by a flat metal disk. It pulled easily into his hands after a few moments of intense heat, the molten wax dripping back into the darkness. Wilson savored the moment for a short second. He still had to get House home.

The wave of vibrations shooting through the wax hit him. House wasn't strong enough to create that type of force.

Instantly, he was slipping sideways through the wax. He didn't fear scorching House on his exit--House was no longer embossed in the trap. He was sure of this. His vision cleared as he left the candle.

He was right. House was laying limp in the thing's arms. It's face was buried in his neck, tiny rivulets of blood sloughing down his body and pattering onto the dirt. The glint of sharp teeth reflected in the dim light cast by Wilson.

There was no scream of "No!", no blazing glory--just a desperate charge.

Wilson watched Helplessly as House was dropped onto the dirt--he passed through Wilson's outstretched arms like a ghost. Blood dripped from an uneven pattern of teeth marks in his neck. The thing turned on him, blood smeared across the gaping maw that now filled it's face.

Instinctively (not his human instincts though, not by a long shot) he cast a loop of the wick across the thing's neck. For a split second, it caught on a row of jagged teeth. The thing tried to bite down, but the wick slipped, now snuggled about it's neck.

"You--" It hissed and lunged for Wilson. Wilson dodged, pulling the loop taunt.

He's get only one chance at this. He pulled continually, flowing backwards almost liquidly as the thing tried to grab him--he must keep the pressure tight, must keep any air from being transmitted. It's body structure was humanoid--Wilson prayed it's airways were as well. Otherwise…

He spared a glance at House, lying still and pale in the dirt.

The thing made a choked noise as it's noose tightened furiously. It clawed at Wilson, it's would-be strikes coming slower now. Slowly, much too slowly, it fell to its knees. It continued to struggle and twitch for much longer than a human would have.

Wilson kept the noose taunt for a minute after it stopped twitching. Just in case. He tied it into a knot, keeping the airway closed off. A long, thick tongue extolled from it's maw onto the dirt like a dead snake.

House lay unmoving in the dirt. His blood was still flowing from the wounds, a steady gush. His eyes were open, unseeing--he was in shock. But he was alive.

Wilson tore a small section of the wick away from the dead monster and looped over his arms and neck, creating a make-shift sling. Slowly, he eased the rope-like cloth around House, lifting him. He pressed House neck onto a section of the wick, trying to stem the blood flow. If he could bandage House soon, get him home, he would be okay. Physically, anyway.

"I'm sorry." Wilson whispered as he started forwards.

-

To be concluded.


	13. Chapter 13

Worlds of Darkness

Chapter Thirteen

By GirlX2

-

The hallway had shrunk in length since they'd walked through it--Wilson could see the front door a few feet away. Killing the Taker had somehow eased the strange warping effects of the house. Wilson didn't pay attention to the other doors he passed. They contained other monsters, ones he was not meant to deal with.

House lay still in his arms, breathing shallowly. He wasn't hyperventilating, not yet. That was a good sign.

The area outside the house was unchanged, the path still long and winding. Wilson gathered what remained of his strength and flew, not floated, forwards. House didn't slow him as much as he'd feared. Even with his strength ebbing, some inner reserve remained, driving him to get House back to the apartment. The journey that had taken hours on foot (partially due to House's ever-slowing pace) would pass in mere minutes.

"House, I need you to hang on for just a little longer. You're almost home. You're safe now." Wilson kept a continual stream of chatter going. House's eyes remained wide open, unseeing--maybe the bodily shock. Maybe something much deeper. Wilson had no way to tell. Once or twice he thought he saw House blink--but it might have been a trick of the weird, greenish light.

Finally, he saw a faint light grow in the distance. He knew this path, he'd traversed it almost nightly to watch House sleep during the five days he'd been captive. Somehow, the portal was still open. Home was reachable. Wilson prayed quickly, giving brief thanks in what Hebrew phrases he could remember.

He pulled up short of the doorway. It was nighttime in the apartment--could it have only been 24 hours since House had arrived?

Suddenly, the bedside light clicked on.

Cuddy walked about the room, a worried expression on her face. She didn't look at the closet. She hadn't seen the portal. Yet.

'House didn't go in to work, and she couldn't reach him. She wanted to check on him.' Wilson swallowed. He wasn't sure if he could pass through the portal in this state. Would bringing the unreality of this place into his apartment kill him, or rip open a rift in space?

Wilson felt a tug on the wick-sling. House was moving a little now, and his gaze was focused.

"Wilson?" The voice was unsteady.

"It's okay." Wilson said firmly as he stepped forwards.

-

Cuddy had scanned the apartment in record time. House's cane was gone, but his vehicles were still there. As was his cell-phone. There was nothing to indicate where he'd gone.

'House, please don't have done anything stupid.' She picked up the phone, her mouth dry. House had been turning ever inwards since Wilson had disappeared, and in his depression, who knew what he was thinking about doing.

The thoughts were torn from her mind as an ungraspable something entered the room. Black flames flew toward the ceiling. In some tiny corner of her mind not overcome with horror, Cuddy saw the child it was grasping and wondered why he wasn't burned up.

"Cuddy." The thing spoke in a burning whisper and knelt down in front of the bed, laying the child gently across the untucked sheets. "Help him. Please."

The boy was bleeding from a series of small puncture wounds across his neck--almost as if he'd been stabbed by many tiny knives. Cuddy immediately went for the first-aid kit she knew House kept under the bed. Her medical training and mothering instinct had somehow overcome the horror of the flaming apparition.

As she rose, she reeled in shock afresh. Where the monstrosity had been, Wilson now knelt.

"Oh my God…"

Wilson was staring at his hands numbly. Wrapped loosely around him was a white rope spattered in blood. The blood of the child on the bed.

'Wilson carried him--he was that thing.' Cuddy backed up and went sprawling across the spread, next to the boy. The child whimpered.

This broke Wilson's numbness. He grabbed the kit from Cuddy and began pulling out bandages and antiseptic.

"He hasn't lost as much blood as I though…he may be in shock." He mumbled, fumbling with the gauze.

"Wilson…what--"

"Just help me get him bandaged!" The snarl was unexpected. Cuddy didn't cry out aloud, but it was a near thing.

Wilson's expression softened slightly upon seeing her terror. "I'm sorry…Please, we have to help him."

"Alright." The fear didn't dissipate entirely, but Wilson's familiar, kind tone helped.

The child was crying out now, whimpering and struggling against the aid. He shrieked as the peroxide hit, burning the wounds clean. He huddled against Wilson, eyeing Cuddy with mistrust.

"Hurt." His first articulate word.

"I know it did." Wilson murmured softly, wrapping the wounds.

The child buried his face in Wilson's shirt. "Don't want her to see me like this."

"Cuddy's here to help."

"Don't want it." The child glanced at her for a moment, blue eyes distrustful.

Such familiar blue eyes…

"Oh God." Cuddy's own eyes went wide in shock. "It's not possible."

House--God, this child was House--saw her recognition and buried his face in Wilson's shirt again.

"There." Wilson finished wrapping the wound. "You're already beginning to clot. You'll be okay."

Cuddy sat stock still as Wilson wrapped the child-House in a hug. Tears were flowing down his face. What she just saw was impossible, yet the evidence was before her.

"This can't be real." She managed.

"I know."

"But it is."

"Yes."

"…How?"

"I don't think you'll believe me."

"I just saw a man made of flames become my head of oncology. Try me."

-

It was nearly dawn by the time Wilson finished his tale. House had fallen asleep long ago, still wrapped in Wilson's embrace. Cuddy eyed the closet somewhat nervously.

"Do you think they'll come after you?"

"I have no idea. I don't think they can--I changed shortly back after I came through."

"And what about him?" Cuddy brushed a strand of hair our of House's eyes.

Wilson shook his head. "I don't know. Children are a lot less far fetched than monsters--maybe that's why he's didn't change back."

"You think he'll be like this forever?"

"There might be a way to change him back--I suppose I'll have to start frequenting Wiccan shops to find an answer."

"And if there's not?" Cuddy asked gently.

"I'll take care of him." He said quietly.

"We'll have to figure out something to tell the police about where you were, and what's happened to him." Cuddy said softly.

"Not now. I need sleep." He managed to get through the statement without yawning.

Cuddy nodded. "Of course. I need to go home anyway…it's almost time to get up for work."

Wilson held back a muffle blast of hysterical laughter. After all he'd been though--and telling it to Cuddy--she was still acting normally.

Cuddy let herself out quietly, determined not to look at Wilson curled up in the bed around House. She was much closer to tears than she'd let on after hearing Wilson's story, but didn't dare break until she got to her car--Wilson didn't need to try and help her pain as well. He'd have enough on his plate dealing with House.

House…

She shook her head as she climbed into her car and tears began to fall--Whatever happened, Wilson would take care of House. He always had.

-

Wilson had no idea how long he had slept for--the sun was still out, albeit dimmer when he awoke. House was curled to his chest, shielded from the world by a wall of blankets. Wilson contemplated leaving House in the bed to go get some food, but dismissed the idea. House might panic if he woke up alone, even if it was in bed.

Wilson moved the covers aside, so House would get some fresh air.

A dim hope that the sunlight would somehow change House back faded as he saw him. He was still a child.

But--Wilson's heart leapt at this--he wasn't as young as he'd been before.

The House he'd brought home had been about four years old. The one lying in his arms was at least ten.

'He is changing back, just much slower.' Relief flooded Wilson's system. House was going to be okay, even if it took a few days to get there. He was going to be normal.

At least, as normal as he'd ever been, with some extra mental trauma heaped on.

'We'll deal with it.' He thought. 'Somehow, we'll deal with it.'

House chose this moment to wake up. He blinked sleepily at Wilson.

"Hi."

"Hi." Wilson kissed the top of his head. "Sleep well?"

-

Fin


End file.
